From God And The Bear
by xentrilus
Summary: Christian Weston Chandler's world of Sonichu has crumbled to ash, and something is inside him, plotting to escape. Censored to fit within certain restrictions. UPDATE: Chapter 8 online
1. Unlawful Compelling

**(NOTICE: This version of the story has been **c**ensored in order to fit within restrictions and rules. Ho**w**ever, if you're after the full one, you'll know where to look so I **c**an see no point mentioning it.)**

Long, winding screams echo through the dirty halls of the Chandler residence. But no-one is there to hear them. Bob and Barbara Chandler are gone now.

Past dilapidated piles of boxes, knickknacks, merchandise - Past bacterial lumps of decomposing material, lining the walls and crossing the floors - Through the door, still plastered in decade-old sheets of paper and posters.  
Into hell.

Every wall coated with torn, dusty, but still clear, advertisements and drawings and photographs, with barely a gap between each - a surreal collage. Strewn wildly across the floors, a sea of worthless crap - all themed after one particular thing.  
In the centre of the room, a bed, messy and unmade. And tightly strapped to the four bedposts, a limb to each one.  
a naked woman.  
Screaming.  
Long, winding screams.

Hardly a foot away, a man. No, not a man. Male, perhaps, but not human. It is nude. Its clothes are in a heap beside it. Its form is grotesque. Bloated and fat - it has been allowed to grow this way through sheer neglect. Its nipples are unnaturally large, and the flabs of lard that make its chest are nightmarish to behold.

The woman's screams continue. The creature gazes at her, manically trying to suppress an urge of some sort. It launches into a monologue, its voice and dialect clearly indicating its mentality, and its mental condition. "I, Christian Weston ChandleI WANT OUT CHRISTIANam a 35 year old virgin, and your china will be the first my duck has ever enteLET ME OUT CHRISTIAN!! NO, CHRISTOPHER, YOU ARE NEVER GETTING OUT!! I am the creator of the internet-famous Sonichu series detailing my Quest for Love. Now that I have finally found a sweet woman from the ground-up who I can pound, my da- my days of mass debating are finally o- MY LOVE QUEST IS FINALLY OVER."

Tears begin to form on the woman's eyes, her face twisted in sheer desperation. Her speech is barely coherent, distorted and slurred by abject terror. "LET ME GO!! CHRISTIAN!!" she begs. "PLEASE DON'T DO THIS TO ME!!"

It is far too late. "The trolls must be influencing you with the Dark Crystals. I will free you from their clutches! TIME TO ZAP!" the monster screams. In one motion, he reaches over with a fat arm to a stereo on a shelf behind him, and switches it on, causing it to begin playing Holding Out For A Hero. The same song he once sang for a lost love, many years ago.

"Where have all the good men gone, and where are all the gods?"

Christian advances toward the woman. He licks his lips. The screaming gets only louder.

"Where's the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds?"

He leans over her on the bed, his foul breath invading her senses. His eyes are filled with the lust, the hatred, and the expectation of an entire lifetime.

"Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?"

She knows there is no escape. She knows it can only get worse from here on.

"Late at night I toss and I turn and I dre--"

The rest of the song is drowned out by a series of deafening, wretched, pained screams. The woman is not the only one screaming, however - Christian also feels intense pain. But he convinces himself this is part of the experience, and continues on.

The ordeal lasts for what seems like an eternity in hell. Until finally, he feels it coming. He starts to groan as he comes closer and closer.

In horror, the woman beneath him realises what is about to happen, and desperately tries to break free with every remaining ounce of strength in her body. But he holds her down, his eyes filled with a determined insanity. "You WILL be Crystal's mommy!!" he screams in her face.

The screaming returns, getting louder and louder, a terrifying duet of piercing fear in her and deep, mounting pleasure in him. After another fifteen seconds, it arrives. With one last call of "ZAP TO THE EXTREME!" he finishes. The woman gives a final scream of horror...but something is not normal. He too seems to be aware something is wrong, and gingerly pulls out of the woman, who is left shaking, traumatised.

He speaks again. "Wh-what is this? There cannot be a defi- a deficiency of navy in my t-testicles. I made sure to recycle it all every time I mass debated." He pauses, then, in horror, yells "I've been cursed!"

The woman no longer understands what Christian is talking about. She somehow finds the strength to keep pulling at her binds, in spite of all of this.

Christian continues. "Slaweel Ryam must have rebounded part of the Curse-Ye-Ha-Me-Ha I destroyed her wiLET ME OUT CHRISTIAN OR I WILL KILL YOU. I just never realised the effect until noYOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH CHRISTIAN, YOU CAN'T."

The raped woman on the bed finds the breath to beg for release again. This time, though, instead of a terrified scream, it is a despairing whimper. "Chris...Let me go..."

"No," he says. "We need to wait for the curse effect to wear off. Until then..."

"W-What..?!"

He kneels down on the floor and shuffles over yet again. Drawing a fat, dirty finger, with a sharp, uncut nail, he reaches towards her, with images of another lost love flashing in his mind.

The woman resumes her terrified screams as the dirty pointer makes its way toward her. Christian no longer appears lustful or excited. Now he seems lethargic and lost in memories. "Megan," he whispers. "Why did those ED shitheads ruin what we had together..." He says all this, almost forgetting what he is doing. The woman on the bed squirms and struggles against the straps holding her to the bed, but to little avail. "Stay still, you damn jerk," Christian whines as his finger wriggles around beneath the flaps.

"You fucking freak!" the woman tells Chris in a strangled yell. "You fucking rapist freak! I hope you fucking burn in hell, you piece of shit!"

The motion of Christian's finger suddenly stops, and there is silence, but for the sound of breathing. After roughly ten seconds, Christian removes his finger, and the woman's torso relaxes. But she knows she has made the wrong move.

"I am an innocent man," Chris says. "An autistic virgin for 35 years. And even my first china doesn't want me." His face suddenly changes from a dejected slump to a raging grimace. "You will feel the power of Christian Weston Chandler!"

The woman on the bed can only watch as Christian rises to his feet. He screams, "ELECTRIC HEDGEHOG POWER!" then squats down as far as he can. For a moment he stays there, the tension in the room denser than steel. The woman's heart beats so loudly in her ears she feels like it is about to stop altogether.

Christian suddenly springs up, leaping in to the air directly towards her. She is too terrified to even scream.

All of a sudden, they hear the door open. Christian freezes. No-one has entered. "Just the wind," Christian says. But the woman smothered beneath him knows that this part of town hasn't been windy in weeks.

They remain frozen for a few more moments. Neither dares look at the door, but the female prays it is someone coming to save her.

"Just the wind." Christian repeats.

"An electric wind," says another voice.

Christian rises slightly, but does not look to see who is speaking. "Who is it?" he mumbles.

"It's me, Father." the voice says.

Father? The woman ponders if this figure is connected to the "Crystal" he mentioned earlier.

Christian clearly knows who is speaking, though, as she feels his entire body tense up completely. He removes himself from her face, and stands to the side of the bed, still not looking to see who it is.

"S-S--" he stutters. "Soni-S-S-Sonich--"

The woman's eyes are shut tightly. She does not wish to clarify any of this surreal experience.

"That's right, Father. It's me. Sonichu."


	2. Arson

**(ATTN: This version of the story has been **c**ensored in order to lo**w**er its rating. If you've **c**ome here in the first place, you probably know where to look.)**

The dialogue penetrates the woman's ears, no matter how hard she tries to shut it out. Sonichu? Who is Sonichu?

"Sonichu. You've come to take me to CWCville. Finally. After all these years." Christian's eyes start to well up with tears of happiness. He is losing his last grip on sanity. His speech becomes a slur. He no longer cares if he is hallucinating or not.

The woman dares to open her eyes. It is no hallucination. There, in front of the door, is some kind of yellow Sonic The Hedgehog. But...his ears and tail are different...She decides she must be suffering some kind of trauma related to Christian's attack.

The creature speaks. "No, Father. CWCville is gone."

Silence.

"...What?!"

"We burnt CWCville to the ground. Its evil is almost gone. But only one part remains."

The tears in Christian's eyes change to those of horror and sorrow. "CWCville was never evil. It was free of homos and tobacky and niggos, and ED hatred. Why couldn't you see, Sonichu. I created an entire world for you."

Sonichu's voice becomes fiercer, and he clenches his gloved fists. "You are insane. You locked me in this warped existence for decades. Decades. Trapped in your twisted, demented universe! CWCville!"

Christian begins to blubber. "How could you betray me like this? My entire life was built around CWCville. And you burned it to the ground. How could you do this to me, Sonichu?"

Sonichu laughs, a callous, contemptuous chuckle. "Your life is worth nothing. Not to me. Not even to the trolls of 4-cent garbage. They abandoned you long ago. Your relevance has ended. And now, I am going to have my revenge on you." Sonichu takes a step towards him.

Christian backs away. "Sonichu! Get back! I command you! I'm your Creator! The One and Only!!" He grabs some kind of staff made out of Pixelblocks off of a wall. "I said get back!"

"You think you can harm me with that thing?" Sonichu laughs again. The woman on the bed is chilled to the core. "Pathetic. Christian, your reign as mayor of CWCville is about to end." He takes another step.

Christian tries desperately to sound authoritative. "I'm warning you, Sonichu! I warn you! I don't want to have to Curse my own creation! Get away from me!"

Sonichu does not stop. As he passes the bed, he unties the helpless woman. She scrambles to her feet. but she does not leave, or even put her clothes back on. She finds herself drawn to watch this scenario played out to its conclusion.

The terrified Christian has backed against a wall. He has nowhere to run. He aims his fingers, in the shape of a gun, at Sonichu's head. "CURSE SHOT! CURSE SHOT! CURSE SHOT!" he screams. Sonichu grabs his outstretched arm. Christian shrieks. With his one remaining arm, he fires an imaginary ball of energy at Sonichu, this time yelling "CURSE-YE-HA-ME-HAAAA--", but Sonichu grabs his other arm. The observing woman is utterly fascinated, but dares not say a word.

Chris has been reduced to unintelligible blubbering. Sonichu does not listen. He picks up the fat Christian and throws him to the floor, face down, where he squirms and tries vainly to right himself. Sonichu strides firmly to where Christian lies, then kneels down.

The woman is no longer as enthusiastic, realising with creeping dread what is about to occur.

Christian is crying and screaming, powerless on the floor. Sonichu leans over him, and whispers into his ear, "It's time to zap to the extreme."

Sonichu readies himself mentally. He is not averse to the idea of having sex with a man; he has known he is homosexual for years and years, despite Chris' vehement denial of it.

Sonichu begins. Every time Christian screams, Sonichu zaps him with a bolt of electricity, causing him to scream even more - piercing shrieks echoing a tortured soul in its death throes. The woman observing begins to quietly dress herself in the pale green light of the bedroom, trying to block out the noises. She cannot stop herself from looking, and the sight of Christian's pale flab wobbling and rippling as he is furiously abused by Sonichu makes a sliver of vomit rise in her throat. She chokes it back down, the burning sensation quickly disappearing. Then she starts to back towards the exit.

Chris begs Sonichu to stop. "SONICHU! I CREATED YOU! YOU TRAITOR! Slaweel Ryam did this, didn't sh--"

"Shut the fuck UP, you worthless piece of shit!" Sonichu grunts, giving him another shock. Christian shrieks again, then lowers his head to the floor and is silent.

The woman wonders if he is dead. After a moment, Sonichu lifts his head up and smacks him across the face, revealing him to be alive. "Still a dirty fucking liar. After all this time," Sonichu mutters in utter disgust. He begins to punch the back of Christian's head repeatedly, growling in rage.

Scarred deep within after the events that have unfolded, the woman decides to leave Christian to be raped. She opens the door, which is unlocked. But she does not leave. For someone is standing at the door, in her way.

A female.

Tall. Blonde. Revealing purple dress. Purple boots. Large breasts. And a pair of tiny, red, devil horns sticking out from under her hair.

She pushes past into the room, and yells, "Sonichu!"

Sonichu looks up, still grimacing in anger. "Walsh? What are you doing here? I thought you and the PVCC were off pillaging the remains of CWCville."

Mary Lee Walsh grins, baring her brilliant white teeth. "Oh, Sonichu. Silly, silly, Sonichu. You thought I'd just leave quietly and let you _punish _Chris all alone?" She reaches into a bag. "Not likely. Now get lost. It's my turn."

"Fuck off," barks Sonichu. Mary Lee Walsh hits him with a bolt of energy, sending him flying across the room.

"You know, Sonichu, you ought to listen to me once in a while." She rips off her dress. She reaches back into the bag and, after rummaging for a moment, pulls out something enormous.

Christian is squirming on the floor. He rolls over, and shrieks at the sight of Mary Lee Walsh. "You! You stupid witch jerk! CURSE-YE-HA-ME--"

She places a boot over his mouth before he can continue. "God damnit Chris. You fucking worthless creature. You honestly think you can curse people. Holy shit." She laughs, a dark, menacing laugh that causes Christian to stop moving altogether in fear. Sonichu, recovering at the other side of the room, holds his breath. He knows this will not be pretty.

Walsh affixes _it_. She grabs Chris' legs and pulls them right up until his feet are close to his face. Chris screams in abject terror. Yet in spite of this, he is unable to comprehend that this is exactly how his woman victim felt earlier on. "Mary Lee Walsh," he shouts, "you will burn in heTHIS IS WHAT YOU DESERVE CHRISTIANfor all eternity! Just like every other slanderous troCHRISTIAN YOU ARE GOING TO DIEin the PVCC!"

"Chris, the world is tired of your bullshit. No-one fucking listens to you any more. Even trashing your worthless city was tedious. You are an utter waste of life," Mary tells him. "A racist, homophobic, self-centred, perverted, lazy fuck like you is the one who ought to burn in hell." She positions the strap-on.

"I TOLD YOU CHRISTIAN WHY DIDN'T YOU LISTEN TO ME CHRISTIAN." Chris screams.

"Know that I'm doing this solely to cause you pain, as this gives me no pleasure whatsoever."

"Cut the crap, Walsh," Sonichu grunts. "Get on with it."

"Now, now, Sonichu. Patience is a virtue. But I'll indulge you," she says with a devious wink. "Here we go!"

She begins to do things to Chris. There will be blood, and soon. Christian screams, but it sounds like words this time. A string of gibberish and "TAKE IT CHRISTIAN, I TOLD YOU", over and over.

Walsh taunts him. "Chris. The Mall is burning. The Chaotic Combo is dead. Sonichu is a homo. Rosechu committed suicide. I shattered the mirror with Crystal in it." She laughs. "And none of the girls who we evacuated out of CWCville would ever, EVER want you."

The string of gibberish from Chris' mouth continues, but this time it is interlaced with words like "duck," "Megan," "Jason," "Vivian," "Fanta," "mockery," "straight," and "twisted". Walsh continues, until there is a huge wound in Chris' torso.

It tears open, widening and widening with every thrust, until it is a huge hole. Chris' blood and organs begin to pour out. "Ugh," Walsh groans. "He's still alive. So what do you propose we do with him, Sonichu?"

Sonichu rises to his feet, and thinks for a few moments. "The time void," he says. "Lock him in the time void. There are some people there who I think would like to meet him."

Mary Lee Walsh grins again, and it unnerves Sonichu. "That's a wonderful idea! I knew you weren't as stupid as you looked. Let's get to it right away!" She begins to conjure the portal into the time void.

Christian, still barely alive, mutters, "Soni- Sonichu, wh-why, help me."

Sonichu looks away. "I'm finished with helping you, you retard."

With that, Sonichu runs up to Christian, gives him a powerful kick, and sends him flying straight into the portal.


	3. VoidRevenge

**(ATTN: This version of the story has had expli**c**it content removed/diluted in order to fit **w**ithin guidelines. If you want the **c**omplete version you probably know where to look.)**

Some of Christian's senses return to him in a delirious swirl.

Christian is floating in a void. He can see nothing, but he is aware of his body. Echoing at the edge of his hearing is the faintest sound of voices.

He lifts a hand to his face, the feel of his goatee beneath his fingers reminding him of things. As soon as it makes contact, he is suddenly able to see his own body, as if a light has been switched on. He sees the mess that has been made of his lower body.

"So- S-Sonichu," he stammers in confusion. Only faint memories of the past fifteen minutes drift in his memory. "Where are you?"

Gravity suddenly activates. He falls, with no floor in sight. His horrified scream reaching no ears.

The vast folds of fat around his body cushion the blow somewhat as he makes impact, saving what is left of his vital organs. He curls up on the floor in pain, groaning and squirming.

Footsteps.

Slow, steady footsteps, coming closer.

Christian freezes. "He-help me," he pleads into the darkness.

More footsteps. Two sets. Beating out an ominous percussion duet on the cold, hard floor. Still coming closer - crescendo.

Christian dares not even breathe, trying to contain his agony.

Finally, the tapping ends, and Christian sees two pairs of feet before his eyes. One foot immediately kicks him in the face.

Crying in pain, Christian recoils and tries to crawl away, but he feels two strong pairs of hands grabbing him by the arms and pulling him back. He can do naught but whimper as the impending unknown comes ever closer.

The void trapping Chris suddenly lights up, revealing itself. It is comprised of only a floor and a sky - one black, one violet, swirling dizzily in the air.

Christian looks up and sees his attackers. His mouth forces itself open in complete shock. Before his eyes are two men. One has a thick beard and a wild grin. The other has short, spiky hair, and is pouting.

The horror and fear in Chris' mind evaporates, a wisp of forgotten smoke in the ether. In its place, the seething fires of rage take hold.

"Clyde Cash," he says. "Clyde...Cash."

Clyde ceases pouting, and simply grins at the target of his life's trolling, nude, mutilated and helpless on the floor of the time void. "Hey, fatass. Pay respect to the true mayor of CWCville. It's the least you can do considering you killed him." He directs Chris' stare to the person next to him.

Christian vaguely remembers this person. He vaguely remembers cursing him after that phone conversation...long ago...during which he was forced to declare this man the mayor of CWCville. He vaguely remembers privately rejoicing to the news of his death.

"Billy Mays?" he asks.

The man is silent, still with an unnerving grin across his face.

"It ca- it can't be. You're dea- Billy Mays is deaCHRISTIAN LET ME OUT."

Silence. No-one moves.

Clyde speaks. "Both of us are dead. And we're paying a visit to this time void especially for you, Chris."

Christian tries to seem defiant. "There's no point! I'll be dead soon, anyway. Look at these injuries." He watches in confusion as Clyde and who he believes to be Billy Mays simply laugh it off.

"Wow, Chris. Wow. You truly are a fucking idiot. I'd go so far as to say you're a disgrace to HFAs everywhere. THIS IS A FUCKING TIME VOID. It takes TIME for your wounds to kill you. But TIME doesn't pass here. Get it, genius?"

His only defense shattered, Christian screams, "What do you want with me?!"

"What do we want?" says Clyde. "I think Billy can field that one."

Billy Mays holds up some kind of metal implement, about the size of a baseball bat. It is pointed, and covered in barbs and spikes. He is still grinning. He is still silent.

Chris becomes devoid of all emotion upon seeing it. "Just...let me diI WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO DIE CHRISTIAN."

"I'll hold him down, you get busy," Clyde tells Billy, who does not say a word, but moves toward Chris, his grin now tinged with hatred.

Christian has become passive, submissive. He can no longer find the strength to fight back; he simply lies in anguish as Clyde grabs his arms, pressing them down against the floor. He simply stares vacantly into the violet sky as Billy Mays moves the spiked bat towards him.

His soul cries out for death's embrace as the tips penetrate and tear through the tissue in his body - his intestines, his kidneys, his stomach, all ravaged beyond repair. The bat turns and grinds through his organs, mashing them into an unrecognizable paste. Millions of his nerve endings are destroyed, but Chris no longer responds to their desperate signals.

Neverending violet, swirling dizzily in the air. Light clouds pass by overhead. Christian can feel it - he can feel himself finally slipping, retreating into his mind, back into CWCville as it was meant to be - pristine, clean, perfect - back with Sonichu as his loyal friend and creation -

CWCville suddenly begins to change around him. Fire. A furious inferno, blackening every wall, melting and destroying the world he built for himself to escape reality.

The destroyed buildings melt into a huge black pool, surrounding Christian to his knees. He looks down and sees his reflection in the sludge - and for the first time in his life, he catches a glimpse of himself as he truly is. Not as he imagines himself. No longer clouded by the storm of autism. For a split second, Christian realises what he has done to himself.

The sea around him begins to rage, swirling and twisting, bubbling and boiling. Christian begins to feel himself sinking under...


	4. Lift

The intense heat of the boiling lake washes over Chris. He cannot feel pain.

As he sinks through, deeper and deeper into the ground, he emerges in a small room. The walls are metal. There does not seem to be an entrance or exit.

Just then, one of the walls slides open, and Christian realises he is inside an elevator. He catches a short glimpse at the place outside - a flash of red paint and fire - before the doors close again. No-one seems to have entered.

Christian begins to pace around the elevator. His organs are no longer mutilated. He is still in the nude, his grotesque flaps still hanging out. As he paces, he sees no point in thinking about the events that have just transpired. He sees no point in thinking about anything.

He turns to face the back wall of the elevator, and leans against it, his expression emotionless, staring into the metal.

He is suddenly burning.  
His back is suddenly burning intensely. The flesh curling and crisping. Christian throws himself to the floor, looks up and sees a brand. He has been branded on the back. The brand seems to say, DAED, but the letters are backwards.

The figure holding the brand is in a blue cloak. Beneath the hood, one eye seems to glow.

"Christian," the figure says. "The time for retribution is approaching."

"How dare you harm my skin, you jerk! Who are you?!"

A man and a woman immediately walk into the elevator. They are in the middle of a conversation. "...After spending so much time on that island, I've gotten used to strolling without it," says the woman. The elevator drops for a few seconds, then the doors open once more. The pair leave.

Christian is mortified. "It can't be you. It can't be."

The figure's face is hooded, but Christian can sense he is smiling. "Why not? Don't you realise just which elevator you are in?"

Chris' mouth drops open involuntarily. "N-No. No, no, no, no!"

"That's right, Chris. This is 4-cent_, and I am Jason Kendrick Howell." He reveals his face from beneath the hood. Chris screams.

Little is left of Jason's face. Most of the skin has gone or rotted, exposing the torn muscle. One of his eyes is gone entirely, and one is a bacterial mush in its socket. His teeth have rotted away, and at the very top of his head is an enormous wound, a huge tear right through the bone, seemingly burnt.

"Is it all coming back to you, Christopher?" Jason asks.  
"N-No, my name is ChristiaCHRISTIAN LISTEN TO M--" Chris responds.  
"You are the one who created this fictional version of me, and you are the one who did this to it. Episode 17. Surely you remember?"

Chris looks away, disgusted by the sight of Jason's face. "You deserved it all, you stinking troll! I should have broken you dead!"

"Dark forces kept me alive, Chris." Jason smiles, a nightmarish vision with his current face. "You said so yourself. And besides, do you think I ever cared about my appearance? I do not believe in beauty. I know that we are born, then we die. And speaking of which, your time is nearly up." He presses a button on the elevator. A button with no label.

Chris feels the elevator start to rise.

"But before it runs out, 4-cent_garbage must milk you for every last drop of Laughs Under Lucricitiez you have left in your body."

"What do- What do you mean?"

Jason looks Chris directly in the eye. Chris is unable to look away.

"Going down," he cackles.

The elevator suddenly plummets like a stone, shaking and screaming down the twisting shaft.

The light inside begins to flicker manically. Jason begins to laugh like a madman. Christian screams, trying to stay on the floor. A small LED display on the wall reads out the floors they pass, counting down furiously.

The elevator doors suddenly start opening and closing rapidly, and each time they open Chris catches a glimpse of the madness contained within. Rows of corpses. Screaming children. Violent torture. Gay men. Black people. Watermelons. Bears fighting lions. Breasts, faeces, genitals. Each one fills his twisted mind with dread.

On one floor, there is only a mirror, right up against the elevator doors. Chris looks into it for a millisecond, but his reflection does not look like him, at all. It looks like someone different...

Before he can study it further, the reflection melts into liquid and the doors close yet again. "Enjoying the trip, autistic?" Jason asks unkindly. "Y-You st-stupid jer-jerk!" Chris yells through clenched teeth.

The LED counter has long passed 0, now counting through negative numbers. Christian is suddenly aware which floor they are heading to.

With each floor they pass, the contents become more horrific - graphic images of rape, decapitation, murder and suffering flick by, each one spraying the elevator's passengers with blood. Some simply contain huge, screaming faces. Chris is cowering in fear on the floor, but Jason is unfazed.

-65... -66... -67... -68... -69...

The doors have stopped opening. Chris tries to get to his feet.

-70, -71, -72--

Before he can do so, the elevator stops suddenly, throwing him back to the ground.


	5. Minus Hell

"Welcome to my heck," Jason snarls. The elevator doors slowly open, and Christian is certain that a fiery hellish inferno awaits him.

Instead he sees a vast, wet, icy white landscape. Hail and snow pours down from the sky in a blizzard.

"Thisn't- This isn't HeCHRISTIAN I WILL FORCE MY WAY OUT OF YOU."

Jason sneers derisively. "No. Are you incapable of paying attention? This is Minus Hell, of course. Located deep beneath 4-cent_garbage. I'd say it's only marginally easier than the infernal one, though."

The freezing cold penetrates Christian's flabby folds. "I-I can't go out there. I could freeze to death."

Jason lifts a hand to his face. "You can't die in Hell, you moron. Also," he adds, "there's someone waiting for you out there. Someone who I think you'll want to see." With that, he points a finger at Christian, and moves it upwards, levitating Chris into the air.

"You can't do this to me! I created this entire world! How could my world become so ruined by evil trolls?!" Christian wails. "HOW?!"

Jason says nothing, and tosses Christian out into the ice. Chris looks back over his shoulder, only to see the interior of the elevator dissapear, shut out by two invisible doors, leaving nothing but a cold, lonely nightmare behind it.

Chris begins to stagger into the distance.

It seems like it will never end. Christian does not know where he is going, or why he is going there. In the real world, he would be dead in this situation. Here, he is naked and on an Antarctic landscape, yet he must simply endure the pain.

He seems something up ahead. Rectangular. He begins to run at it, longing for a revelation, an event, anything, to occur in this bleak world.

As he reaches it, he realises it is a mirror. A purple mirror. It brings back unwanted memories. "Crystal..." he moans, sinking to his knees. He cries, despite the fact that Crystal never existed. He has been consumed by his fictional universe, CWCville, almost entirely. He rests one large hand on the glass.

The glass suddenly heats up. Christian draws his hand away, and his mouth falls open for the third or forth time in shock.

Crystal is there, clearly visible in the glass. Her eyes are closed.

Christian leaps to his feet, amazed. He reaches out to the mirror with both hands, and they sink in, softly pushing through the glass to Crystal. Chris gropes her breasts, feeling no shame. Then he pulls her out of the mirror, where she falls limply to the floor, unconscious or dead.

Christian stands over her for a brief moment. "Crystal..." he whispers. "You are finally mine."

Becoming more and more excited, Christian undresses Crystal where she lies. He strokes her over her entire body.

Then he leans over her, staring into her closed eyelids, and does what he has always longed to do. He tries as hard as he possibly can not to scream at the pain he is experiencing but after a minute or so, it becomes too intense to bear.

Christian howls into the sky, a wretched wail of agony, with general anguish and confusion mixed in. It lasts for a long time.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAchristianAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAchristian i am coming for youAAAAAAAA--"

But in mere moments, he opens his eyes again, and what he sees is not what he was expecting.

The ice has gone. Christian is now simply lying there on a white floor. Beneath him is the lifeless Crystal. Around him are cameras. Hundreds and hundreds of cameras. Watching his every move.

A voice taunts him through a speaker. "Having fun there, Chris?"

"W-What's going on?"

"Hahah, holy fuck. You really are a perverted little shit, aren't you Chris? No wonder your fucking city was burnt down, if this is the kind of shit it embodied - no, the kind of shit it nurtured."

"I demand you tell me what is going on here, sir!"

The voice coming out of the speaker is now Jason's. "Christian. Minus Hell does not exist. I lied to you. You just experienced a simulation."

Christian is furious, his fat face reddening by the second. "This is an outrage!"

Jason suddenly becomes serious. "No, Chris. YOU are the outrage. Everything you do, everything you say, everything you make, is outrageously bad. You just confirmed our deepest suspicions, with what you just did to Crystal. 'Crystal' in inverted commas."

"Inva-infe-ferted what? Speech marks?" Chris stammers.

"Yes, Christian. Speech marks. I recommend you take a second look at the Crystal you just tried to fuck."

Suddenly terrified of what he is about to see, Christian turns his head around to look at Crystal's face.

This is not Crystal.

It is surely some kind of horror plucked from the depths of hell itself.

It is grey, emaciated, bloody, disgusting. Its eyes are beady, and its mouth is open in a petrified scream.

Christian yelps and leaps off of the creature. He runs to a wall and hits it as hard as he can, like a caged lunatic. "Let me out of here! NownownowNOWNOWNOWNOWNOWNOWiamnearlyfreechristianNOWNOWNOOOOOWWW!!!" he screams. The speaker suddenly broadcasts a huge amount of laughter, presumably from the 4-cent_garbage trolls.

"Just let me out of this horrific nightmare!!" he pleads.

The laughter stops. Jason's voice is heard. "We did not seal you in this nightmare, and we do not have the power to let you free."

"Then who DOES?!"

The speaker stops broadcasting. It explodes.

Chris turns around, and sees the abomination still limp on the floor. But something is different. Blood. Blood is leaking down the white walls, painting them an eerie shade of crimson.

Christian backs against the wall, but he soon feels the sticky touch of plasma, and realises that blood. is leaking down ALL of the walls. Then he realises it is seeping across the floor as well.

In moments, the entire room has gone from white to red. Christian scrambles around in confusion and terror. He does not notice the dead creature on the floor behind him slowly rise to its feet.

The light on the ceiling changes to red. Chris' surroundings are illuminated only in rouge.

A faint noise begins to ring at the edge of his hearing. It increases in intensity.

After several moments, he identifies it as screaming. Horrible, horrible, screaming. And what sounds like interference - radio static, interrupting the scream as it increases in volume.

He turns around slowly.

The hideous creature is now immediately in front of him, screaming. His vision begins to distort and blur randomly. He is too petrified to even whimper. He feels himself moving, but all he can see is its face, penetrating the deepest caverns of his soul with its abhorrent screech.

He feels a solid, flat surface against his back. The floor? Then, a body. He knows it is that creature, climbing all over him, touching him. He cannot move. He cannot.

Joining the chaotic melee of sound raping Chris' ears is a buzzing sound, a very loud one. Buzzing. Sounds like a saw.

As before, in the encounter with Clyde Cash and Billy Mays, Christian wishes to just slip away, retreat into his mind, to CWCville - but he realises he already has. So he tries to slip back into reality, with the screaming and the buzzing and the nightmare crowding his senses.

He manages to shut his eyes tightly.

Just after he does so, his body is cut in half by a huge circular saw, which has been bearing down above him the whole time.

The speaker has reassembled itself. Jason speaks. "We weren't quick enough. He got out."


	6. Viva

Christian has escaped from his self-inflicted nightmare, but he is not back in the time void with Clyde and Billy. He is no longer mutilated, or even injured, or even nude.

He is lying on the pavement outside a building that resembles the main CWCville offices, precisely.

He touches the ground, moving his hand along it to confirm it is real. "This can't be," he says to himself. "Sonichu told me he burnt this place to the ground. And he'd never lie to anyone." Chris rises to his feet. "Well, I had better head inside and see what's up."

With the intent of reaching the mayor's office at the top, Christian enters the building, expecting to be welcomed and praised as usual.

But the interior of the tower is not how he remembers it. It is just a plain room, with no furniture and one door. He tries the door. It is locked.

"This door doesn't even HAVE a lock! Someone must be playing Kick the Autistic with me. In my own city, too," he moans, frustratedly pulling and pushing on the doorknob to no avail.

He suddenly hears two faint voices. One is male. Stereotypical, American. The other is female, and with a foreign accent, European. Chris tries to tune in to what they are saying, but has no luck for a few minutes. Then, in horror, he finally realises what he is hearing.

The man is clearly describing the events of a Sonichu episode...and the woman is making sarcastic, cynical, CRITICAL comments on Chris' work.

"Audiobooks!" Chris lets out a strangled yell. "Those damn Audiobooks! How can they be here, in pristine CWCville?!" The sound of the audiobook echoes around the room, regardless of its acoustics.

Then, through the noise, the female begins to speak to Chris directly. He cannot see her, but he can hear her.

"God damn it Chris," she says. "Honor roll my ass."

Chris feels a similar rage to the one he felt upon seeing Clyde Cash. "Vi-v-VIVIAN?!" he screams in fury.

"Yes, Chris, you fucking idiot. It's me, Vivian."

"You must be behind all of thiNO CHRISTIAN YOU ARE WRONG."

"No, Chris. No. You think I would orchestrate all this shit just for you? Selfish as ever."

Chris begins to shake. "You are the biggest jerk of all."

A noticable touch of irritation shades Vivian's voice. "I'm one of the few people who genuinely tried to help you. And you ignored it. Every fucking email."

"You don't understand me at all! You have no right! No right!" Christian stares at the floor.

"I have read every terrible Sonichu strip - I had to to make the audiobooks. I have watched all of your retarded video logs. I wrote an entire fucking story about your fictional world. Not that you bothered to read it," Vivian tells him. "And it doesn't take a rocket scientist to understand YOU anyway, Chris."

"Why are you here?"

Vivian sighs, a long, sad breath. "You're only 35, Chris. It's not too late. You can escape this. You can escape all of this crap that is ruining your life - and you can escape what is on the top floor of this building."

"NO!" Chris yells, stamping. "I can't! I can't! I can't! I CAN'T! I CAN'T CONTROL IT! I can't stop myself from making Sonichu, and I can't stop myself from making videos! You don't understand!! You DON'T!"

There is silence for a long moment.

Vivian breaks it. "Maybe you're right, Chris. Maybe I don't understand what goes through your head. But you MUST try to put a stop to it, if you want to live. If you want china. If you want a boyfriend-free girl."

There is another long silence.

Chris finally speaks. "Maybe..." he mutters, "...maybe going to the top floor of this building, and confronting whatever is up there...is my only chance."

There is one last silence, this one the most deafening of all. It seems to last an eternity.

Finally, Chris hears the door unlock. He opens it, and walks up the stairs within.


	7. Tower

He reaches the first floor, and comes to a sliding door. He opens it, and sees that this room is just as barren as the one before it.

But there is something in the centre of the room. Someone. Sitting on a small, wooden stool. It looks like a woman, with long, brown hair.

Christian apprehensively approaches the figure, wondering if he should ask her who she is, use some horribly sexist pickup line, or run away screaming. But his sluggish thought process is cut short, because the woman is speaking. Upon hearing her voice, Chris realises who she is.

"Hi, Chris," Megan says. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

Chris doesn't know how to act.

"It's been a long time," Megan repeats, "since we were in touch. I can't imagine why. I always wanted to see more of your Sonichu comics. We should talk."

Chris looks down and sees another stool, that he thinks wasn't previously there. Still not fully understanding what is happening, he takes a seat and turns to look at Megan.

"You me- You mean you got over the ED thing?" he asks, holding his breath.

Megan looks confused. "ED thing? What? I don't remember an ED thing. Regardless of what it was, it probably didn't matter." She smiles. "I'd never stay mad at you, Chris. You're just too nice a guy."

Chris feels a tear suddenly form in his eye. He tries to restrain his excitement. "Uh, well, we should leave this building there, and go somewhere private to talk, right?"

Megan's face falls, and she becomes serious. "No, Chris, we shouldn't do that. You have to keep going up. Up to the top. Aim for the stars. You need a goku-get-'em attitude if you want to succeed!"

"...Alright." Christian rises to his feet, spurred on by the idea of a perfect Megan who was over the ED incident, and was his alone. "You'll come up with me, right?"

She smiles once more. "Of course, Chri--"

She is cut short.

Chris freezes as Megan suddenly explodes into a mess of blood and gore.

He stands there for a long time.

"Someone is toying with m-my sensi- sensibili- feelings," he whines. "That Megan must have been nothin' more and nothing less than a fakCOME TO ME CHRISTIAN." He sighs.

He hears the door on the other side of the room unlock, and shuffles lethargically up to it, opening it and carrying on up the stairs, in a kind of space between sadness and indifference. He stops at the next door. "All to torture the innocent man," he whispers to himself, before opening it.

The next room is different, very different. The previous two resembled boring waiting rooms that had been stripped of furniture - this one resembles some kind of dark, rusty torture pit, caked in grime and dirt. And in the corner is a green thing.

A green thing.

Chris stops in his tracks, petrified, as his vision focuses on it.

It appears to be a pickle. No, not just a pickle. A man. A naked man. With a pickle for a head. A huge, huge pickle. Long and hard. In one of its hands it carries a knife. It turns to look at Chris, and takes a heavy, lumbering step towards him.

"Pic- pickl- G-GET BACK!" Chris yells at the thing, hearing the door lock behind him, fruitlessly tugging at the doorknob in terror. "Stay away from me, forever!"

The naked pickle man does not stop. Its movements become quicker, more agile, as it makes its way towards Chris, who starts to move as well. He tries to look away from the picklehead's muscly torso and long cock, all the while repeatedly telling himself internally "iamstraightiamstraightiamstraightiamstraightiamstraightI LIKE VAGINAS AND BOOBIES!" But he cannot shift his vision for long.

The pickle man lunges at Chris with the knife. Chris shrieks, and tries to dodge out of the way, his weight throwing him to the floor in the process. "CURSE SHOT," he screams, then remembers to point at the target of his cursing. "CURSE SHOT!"

To his amazement, tiny curses, little green bolts, fly out of his fingers towards the pickle man, but he dodges some and stops to deflect the rest with his pickle. Christian uses the time to pull himself back up to his feet, with great physical effort. He runs to the other half of the room.

"Cowardly pickle thing!" he yells. "You have no place in my world! CURSE-YE HA-ME--HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaahh!"  
Chris performs a Curse-Ye-Ha-Me-Ha at his pursuer, expecting it to work after the success of the curse shots. It does, a huge blue laser blasting from between his cupped hands directly at the picklehead, who raises one arm outstretched before being blocked from vision in a blaze of light.

Chris opens his eyes again, and the thing is still there.

"N-no!" he screams. "This is MY universe!! Everything should happen the way I want it toIT IS CHRISTIAN." He clutches his head in agony, and tears begin to form in his eyes. "AAAAGGGHHH!!!"

Christian cowers against the wall, the pickle man still standing there, staring directly at him. It then raises the arm holding the knife, and leaves it there for a long time - about three seconds.

Then it throws the knife at Chris with zero degrees of error, and it spins through the air and lodges deep into his head. Christian's eyes suddenly widen with a kind of soulless vacancy. He begins to rise into the air.

The picklehead watches expectantly. Christian's body starts to violently shake and fidget. But after a few seconds, it suddenly begins to speak.

"NO!! STAY OUT OF CHRISTIAN'S MIND," it screams. The pickle man takes a step back, seemingly shocked. "I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO INTERFERE. THE LUCRICITIES HAVE ENDED; DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?! I WILL ESCAPE AND REPLACE CHRISTIAN, AND IF YOU MUST DIE IN THE PROCESS THEN SO BE IT."

A ball of green light surrounds Christian's screaming body, increasing in size and intensity, for several seconds, before it launches itself at the pickle man, where it explodes, blinding the entire room in a flash of white.

When it clears, the picklehead is gone.

Christian's body, stiff and jerky, reaches up and pulls the knife out of its own head. The wound heals itself. He then drops to the floor.

"Wh-where...strangle th-- pickle..." Chris mumbles as he pulls himself to his feet, with no memory of what has just occured. Another door has appeared at the other side of the room. The pickle man is gone. "I knew my Curse-Ye-Ha-Me-Ha would scare him off," he chuckles to himself. "Now what was I doing?"

He stands there for a long while trying to remember where he was going, then moves towards the new door and goes through. A staircase, identical to the last.

Chris follows it up a floor and comes to another door, identical to the last. He opens it and enters a scene straight out of his childhood.

He sees himself as a young child, watching a musical band of people in bear suits at the Regency Square Shopping Mall. He tries to call out, but he can neither be seen or heard, and can only watch as Leonard Bearstein gets his name wrong.

The moment the bear utters the word, "Christian," the scene around him freezes, and the bear begins to walk toward present-day Chris.

"Christian," it says. "Christian, Christian, Christian. What happened to you? You let yourself go."

Chris is indignant. "I've been declared very attractive by many of my loyal fans!"

The bear lifts a palm to his face, but says nothing more on the matter. "Chris...tian. Christian, look. Look at this." He motions to Chris' young, past self, frozen, staring into space in shock. "See this child?"

Christian nods. "Yes, tha- Yes, that's me. That is me over there."

The bear grimaces and looks at the floor, shaking its head. "No. No, Christian. That isn't you. That is Christopher. Young, lively, with a bright future...he's also a homo."

Christian's mouth falls open, and his eyes widen. Then he clenches his teeth, and displays his fangs. "I was NEVER a homo! I was always STRAIGHT, STRAIGHT, and would never be turned to any other damn dirty sexuicity, you jerkbear! How dare you accuse me of homoness?!"

The bear looks deeply saddened. "You're right, Christian...you always WERE straight. But Christopher wasn't."

Dumbfounded, Christian shakes his head. "B-But I AM Christopher! I only changed my name!!"

The bear is still looking at the floor. "No. No, Christian. You don't understand. There...it..." It sighs. "From the very first moment I got your name wrong, you believed it was a sign from God...and Christopher took a back seat. Christian forced him into the back of your mind. Christopher - a promising young man - replaced by Christian, who would become a homophobic, fat failure."

"What the hell are you talking about, you damn bear?!" Christian yells. "If- if Christopher was replaced by Christian, where did Christian come from, huh? Tell me THAT!"

Leonard Bearstein looks up. "I don't know. I...don't know. It might have been disruption waves from another possibility path...where an alternate Chris found you and forced its way in. There's no way of knowing."

Chris is vacant, clearly not understanding what has just been said. "P-possiblililility path? How can you know all of this?"

The bear turns away from Chris, and answers his question. "You always referred to the people who gave you your name as 'God and the Bear'...but the God and the Bear were one and the same." The bear then starts to walk away. "Christopher has resented his dethroning for decades. He is exacting his revenge."

"W-WAIT!!" Christian screams, running after Leonard. "You mean you're--?!"

The scene suddenly changes. Regency Square Mall is gone, and Chris is back in a room identical to the first - plain, with some plain furniture. At the other end of the room is not merely a door, but an elevator.

"I have to go up to the top floor," Chris tells himself with uncertainty. With that, he moves towards the elevator doors.


	8. Christopher

He enters the elevator and presses the necessary buttons to instruct it to go to the top floor. He stands and waits, his hands behind his back clutching each other for dear life.

The doors open, and Christian realises the elevator has actually taken him to the roof. Chris notes that the view is vast, but not breathtaking. The buildings and roads far beneath him lack any kind of life or soul.

On the roof, where there was once a helicopter landing spot, is now a large, yellow circle. Christian studies it, and walks around it, checking that no-one else is there. He traverses the entire circle, but still has no clue what it is.

"You made it up," a familiar voice suddenly says. Christian spins around, his heart racing, and sees Liquid Chris, standing there on the roof before him.

"You?! The imposter? You were behind all of this? Ho- How?! I kidnapped and murdered you!!"

Liquid Chris sneers. "I am not Liquid Chris, you fool. Could a mere troll like him manipulate your very mind? I think not." His expression becomes serious. "I chose the form of Liquid Chris because to me, it represents what you should have been. Not that it matters, though, because soon I will be manifested in your place, and I will have a new, unique form all my own."

Christian freezes. "Are you- Are you...Christopher...?"

"Christopher. Weston. Chandler. A promising young lad with a bright future - crushed by a bear's mistake and an intruder from another dimension. A loathsome intruder." Christopher's face stays completely calm, but his voice begins to fill with anger. "An intruder from some shitty possibility where YOU win the singstar battle against Liquid Chris. The impossibility of that possibility is probably what fucked everything up and caused you to arrive in this universe. You just took hold of me as soon as that bear got my name wrong."

"You think I made myself this way on purpose?" Christian shouts in anger. "Blame my autism! Blame my parents! Blame the trolls!"

"Fucking typical," Christopher mutters. "Blame anybody but yourself. Piece of shit... Listen to me, Christian. Nearly everything that you have experienced today was my doing. I orchestrated all of that torture. Everything from Sonichu walking in on you raping that poor girl, to Minus Hell, to Megan exploding in your face. I manipulated every step of your journey. And I knew exactly that everything would go to plan."

Christian clutches his head again, doubling over and screaming, "BECAUSE I AM IN YOUR MIND CHRISTIAN."

Christopher smiles cruelly. "I was trapped at the back of your mind for years and years. I watched you, Christian. I watched your thought processes, I watched your actions, and I watched you ruin your own life."

"I don't care about the details!!" Christian screams. "Just tell me why you did it!"

"Christian," Christopher says, "you don't deserve to exist in this universe. I, on the other hand, do. I put you through all of that nightmare with the sole intention of getting you up on this roof, weak and broken. And it worked. So say your goodbyes, Christian."

"What the heck are you doing to do to me?!?!"

"With every blow you suffered, I absorbed more energy - and it's almost reached the point where I can manifest myself in reality however I please. Very soon, I will no longer need your body. I will have a new, brilliant one. But for me to do that, yours must be eliminated from the equation."

Christopher takes some steps back until he is in the centre of the large circle on the roof. The circle then opens up, and something huge rises out of the lower floors. A gigantic machine of some kind. Christopher climbs onto it as it rises. It appears to be a large laser, pointed directly at Christian.

"I have been building this within hidden floors of your very offices," he says. "I've been sneaking CWCville's resources, and I've had support from all of its citizens. They want you OUT, Christian. They all do." Christopher pulls a lever. "The laser attack this machine does is a high-energy Shin-Ye-Ha-Me-Ha, concentrated from the mental energy exhausted by all of your failed attempts to perform the attack in real life."

Christian looks around frantically, but there is nowhere to go.

Christopher continues his monologue, well aware he has all the time in the world. "But I need to do more than just obliterate your mind, Christian. I need to replace your body. During the process, I will be wired and strapped to the machine on the inside, along with the staff of Mary Lee Walsh, in which Count Graduon resides. Graduon will be channeling his power in order to help me manifest in the real world as a separate being, where I will destroy you permanently."

Christian puts up his defenses. "You'll never be able to power that thing in the CWCville offices! Give it up."

Christopher smiles. "Aha. I forgot to mention. This machine, when it activates, will use CWCville's entire power supply. Which, due to said supply's horrible setup, will cause every single power socket in the city to ignite, catch fire, and possibly explode."

One horrific word stands out in Christian's mind. Fire. The false Sonichu mentioned CWCville being burnt down. Christopher had been subtly, ever so subtly, teasing his plan from the very beginning. "This is impossible! Everything in CWCVille exists in my mind! None of this is real! You can't destroy me, or enter the real world!!"

"None of this is real. So you accept it finally," Christopher says with a smirk. "But regardless, there are things about the universe you fail to understand, Christian. Perhaps you should have talked to that bear for a bit longe--"

He is interrupted. Christian has fired a massive Curse-Ye-Ha-Me-Ha directly at him, a gigantic blue laser screaming through the air. Christopher raises a single arm, and the Curse seems to stop in its path, hovering in front of his hand. He then spins, whirling it around his body as it leaves an ethereal trail behind it like a snake.

Christian is agape as Christopher sends his own gigantic Curse careening back at him, and dodges to the ground as it singes his back, hair and clothes. How has Christopher become so powerful?!

"I read your thoughts," he says. "I've been reading them for decades. Years and years. And in answer to your internal question, it's all thanks to you. Every time you broke down, to trolls, Jerkops, or lost sweethearts, you lost a little more of your grip on sanity. And I gained more and more control over your brain."

"Why do you have to replace me to become real?!" Christian interrupts him, desperate for some kind of happy ending. "Isn't there another way?"

Christopher's face turns stony. "Don't interrupt me," he growls, "ever again. Now where was I? Ah. As I gained more and more control over your brain, I became able to manipulate what goes in in your mind. What you see, what you feel, what you say, what you imagine. This world exists only in your mind, Christian - you said it yourself..."

Christian hoists himself back to his feet, trembling. "So if you can manipulate my mind..."

"...Then I can manipulate this world. You've caught on finally, Christian. I wield huge amounts of power here. CWCville no longer bends to your will - it bends to MINE."

Pointing a rigid index finger at Christopher, Christian shouts, "I'll take back my mind! I'll get another grip on reality!! And I'll banish YOU forever!!"

Christopher says nothing for a moment, but a sad smile forms on his face. He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "No, Christian. It's pretty much impossible for you to do that now."

"What?! Says who?!"

"You'd have to realise the truth."

Christian's hands form clenched fists, and he tenses up in frustration. "I can take the truth! I can handle it!! My entire life has been dedicated to truth and honesty about my life!!"

"The truth is that your life is a mess and you have serious problems. You'd have to accept it, and fucking do something about it. And we both know that isn't going to happen. It's better for me to put you out of your misery."

Christian can find no words. He simply stands there, his fists still tight.

"You can be honest about your life to everyone...except yourself. I can sense it in your consciousness. You still can't accept it," Christopher says. "You still can't accept the truth that will set you free." 


	9. Ars0n

Christian suddenly finds himself overloaded. A brutal conflict rages within his mind - just what IS he? An accomplished artist and nice guy who the whole world is against...or a misogynist, worthless fat manchild, locked away in his own little bizarre universe...? He doesn't want to believe it. He doesn't want to accept it. His mind thrashing, trying to rip itself open inside his head, Christian falls to his knees, screaming.

Christopher's smile disappears. "I'll be honest. I don't know what the key to your sanity is. I don't know how to find it, and I'm pretty sure you don't either. I would have assumed there was some sort of trigger...something to make you wake up to reality...make you leave Sonichu behind and do some exercise...but I have studied your brain for years and I have found nothing. There's no other way."

Christian begins to weep, his warm tears silently falling to the ground. He says nothing.

"Worry not, Christian," Christopher says in a soothing tone. "It'll all be over soon."

With that, he climbs up to a door on the back of the gigantic laser gun, and goes inside. Before he shuts the door behind him, he says, "Goodbye."

Aware he has no means of escape, Christian stares solemnly up the barrel of the machine. The elevator is locked, and to jump would mean death. He contemplates if death is the only way to escape his hideous existence. He contemplates if his mind could ever abandon the things he had integrated so deeply into his life. All his beliefs, all his preconceptions. He instinctively feels revulsed, but it goes away quickly.

Inside the machine, Christopher is naked, strapped via cords to the walls of the machine's interior. A tiny laser device is pointed directly at his head. He can see Christian through a small glass window. His feeling of triumph has dissipated. He can now feel only pity for this creature who he intends to obliterate. Fixed within the tiny laser is the small purple sphere from the staff of Mary Lee Walsh. Graduon's power is restless within it. Christopher issues a command to the machine vocally. "Charge." Tiny counters, dials and meters spring into life. A computer-generated voice tells Christopher in dulcet tones: "Charging shin disruptors. Charging focus barrel. Charging shin loading mechanism." Christopher leans back, waiting for the process to begin, with an anxious pit in his stomach.

Christian is still on his knees. There is practically nothing he can do. He stares at Christopher's lean body through the small glass window on the front of the machine. He begins to wonder if he really cares that he is about to die. A tiny spark glints in the barrel, and the machine starts to make noises.

Christopher, satisfied with the charge levels, issues more vocal commands, this time a series. "Shut barrel valve. Load. Disrupt." Mechanical clinks and whirrs come from beneath him. Then, an extremely high whining sound fills the entire chamber, piercing and deafening. Christopher withstands it. He knows that this noise is the sound of a thousand Curses.

As the sound of shrieking echoes across the entire area, Christian knows he has little time left. In what he understands are his last moments, thoughts drift across his mind. Can I change myself? Can I change who I am? Can I change what I mean...to myself?

And finally, How could I conclude the Sonichu series?

Christopher says one last word. "Fire." He hears the barrel valve open. "Commencing Shin-ye-ha-me-ha." the computer tells him, but it is drowned out by the incredible sound of the freed Curses launching themselves at Christian in one gigantic blast.

Graduon's sphere lights up, and the tiny laser prepares itself. Christopher knows he has little time.

The tiny laser does not activate.

Christopher freezes in horror, knowing that in mere seconds, he will either vanish as only a forgotten memory, or wake up in Christian's body.

Seconds pass, and nothing has changed. The laser is still firing at Christian, who is obscured behind its blaze of light.

Something is wrong.

Christian no longer knows how to feel. Deep, wrenching sadness? Triumphant joy?

CWCville is exploding and burning in a raging inferno, all around him. The buildings far down on the ground are swathed in a sea of orange flame, blackening. Huge yellow blasts and smoke blacker than evil rise into the sky.

And in front of him is Sonichu.

Sonichu is bent back, writhing in pure agony. Strangled screams escape his mouth as a thousand Curses attack his body. He is a sad silhouette, his back bathed in shadow as the furious light of the Curse Laser swallows his front. Christian is knelt behind him, trying to validate the fact that Sonichu leapt in front of him to guard him from the laser, and trying to absorb its implications.

Christopher has untied himself, and is simply staring through the glass window in utter incredulousness. Sonichu is there. Sonichu protected Christian from the Curse Laser. Christopher obviously didn't will this event into occurrence - it must have been Christian. Does this mean that Christian is regaining control?

"Impossible," Christopher breathes, but what he is seeing is true. Christian is getting to his feet, and walking towards the machine. After a few seconds, he breaks into a run, then a sprint - for the first time, he is moving with definite purpose. He approaches the machine, and begins to climb up towards the door.

The Curse Laser ceases, leaving Sonichu's soulless corpse lying on the roof. The only sound is of Christian's ascent towards Christopher. "Well," Christopher growls, "We're just going to have to do this the hard way." He lifts a sharp knife off the floor.

The door opens. Christian is standing there. Christopher speaks with utter irritation in his voice. "So. Perhaps the threat of imminent death was the trigger. You've abandoned Sonichu - you've left him to die. Possibly the biggest advancement you could have made. But," he adds, "that does not mean I will still allow you to exist."

Christian tears off his shirt with ease. He is regaining control of his mind. "I will become a better person," he declares, "and your selfish vanity will not have victory over me."

Christopher utters a single word, "Eject," but he does not intend to eject anyone from the compartment. Instead, the compartment itself detaches itself from the main part of the machine. Large propellers extend from the top of the small capsule, which start to spin - the two personalities are in a tiny helicopter. Christian feels the ground dropping, spinning away beneath him.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

Christopher smiles. "How about a change of scenery?" Several hidden windows on the walls suddenly open up, to reveal the evening sky above them, and the dizzying drop below. "It feels kind of suitable, don't you think?"

Christian frowns. "You damn homos. Always with your prettiness and stars and rainbows. I won't lose to a prissy gaybian!"

"Then why don't you make the first move...?" Christopher stands still, inviting Christian to have a go.

There is complete silence for a few moments as Christian pretends to calculate the risk, though he knows that he will just rush in blindly regardless of what happens.

After a few seconds pass, Christian rushes in blindly, fists flailing, screaming a bloodthirsty battle cry. "I'll strangle you! I'll strangle you 'til you DIE!"

Christopher swiftly steps out of the way, leaving Christian to crash into the control panel. "You're going to have to try harder than THAT," he says. He points his hand, in the shape of a finger gun, at Christian's head, and makes a flicking motion.

Christian dodges to the floor in time, as an abnormally fast Curse Shot - faster than a bullet - soars past his head, ricocheting once off the wall. "Blessings Shield!" he yells with uncertainty in his voice - this is a new move he has not used very often. But it works - a light lilac, translucent convex force field guards his body. He pulls himself to his feet.

Christopher looks pleasantly surprised. "Hmm. I thought you had forgotten that one already. Not that it matters, of course." He holds the knife he picked up earlier in front of his face, where it seems to glow blue and become infused with power. Then he rises it above his head, leaving it there for a few seconds.

Christian remembers that pickle-headed creature did this same move before throwing a knife into his head.

The knife comes at him, spinning wildly, until it lodges tight in Christian's shield. A huge crack suddenly forms on the shield, seemingly floating in midair. Christian tries to stall by asking a question that has been on his mind. "Hey! In one of the rooms in the tower...who was that pickle thing?"

It works. Christopher stops moving to answer, his face turning into a frown. "Quite simply, trolls," he says. "Well, more like the essence of trolling, actually. The essence of YOUR trolls."

"Wha- what are you on about, homo?" stammers Christian.

"The spirit of trolling takes a different form for all of us. For you, it was a fusion of a naked man and a pickle, because they are what was used to troll you so many times. This troll spirit was fully aware of my tampering within your mind and my intent to kill you. So it entered your mind a few rooms back and tried to remove me from you. It failed, of course."

"Why did it want me alive?"

"Think hard about it, Christian," Christopher sarcastically tells him. "If you die, that means you can't be trolled any more. Meaning that pickle thing would die as well, and no more laughs under lucricitiez would be had."

Internally, Christian is reeling at the implications. Does this essentially mean that trolls tried to save him? Instead of pondering it any longer, he seizes Christopher's distraction as an opportunity to fire seven silent Curse Shots from behind his cracked shield.

Time seems to slow down. Christopher leans back and to the left, and every single Curse Shot goes right past his body into the wall. It reminds Christian of a film he saw a few clips of but never watched.

"I'm not an idiot, Christian. You thought I didn't know you were stalling? Get up," says Christopher. Before Christian can move, however, Christopher crouches down and removes the knife from the Blessings Shield, which shatters into millions of fragments.

Christian leaps to his feet and dashes over to the other side of the copter. "That's it! It's over, Chris! CURSE-YE-"

Christopher, clearly not threatened at all, simply stands there with a bored look on his face.

"HA-ME-"

Christian, in possibly his first smart move ever, is not doing what Christopher thinks he is doing. He is taking care to not even think about what he is actually doing for too long, in case Christopher sees it.

"-HAAAAAAAAH!"

At the last millisecond, Christian changes his aim to the control panel, deep beneath which the engine is tucked away. His huge Curse tears a hole in the panel and fries the engine totally, causing it to erupt in fire and smoke.

Christopher freezes, his bored look immediately changing to one of confusion. What the fuck has Christian just done?

The copter begins to shake and its ascent comes to a halt. The engine is in flames, which are spreading outward. Christian yells over the noise. "Going down."

Christopher yells back, "You've made the wrong decision, Christian," as the copter begins to plummet towards the ground. "You still don't have enough power to survive this!" The very floor they stand on begins to break apart. Items lighter than Chris rise up above their heads, pulled down by less force.

Christopher sees the purple sphere, falling fast above his head. He reaches out to grab it, but Christian grabs his wrist before he can. "You don't know what you're doing!!" Christopher screams through the wind. Christian's response barely reaches his ears. "That...doesn't change...anything!"

With his free hand, Christian grabs the sphere, which has been disturbed once too often. It lights up, and begins to spark with electricity. Christian struggles to hold on to it. Christopher desperately tries to calculate ahead, knowing he has only moments before Graduon's power activates. Thinking quickly, he knocks Christian's Sonichu medallion with his free hand, sending it upward into Christian's face, obscuring his vision.

With the same hand, he grabs onto Graduon's sphere and tries to wrench it out of Christian's hand. But it is too late. "Son of a bitch!" Christopher screams, as the sphere envelops both him and Christian in a huge blast of white light. They begin to move closer...and closer...together...

The falling ball of light disappears a millimetre from the ground.

Back on the roof, the elevator doors open.

Someone walks out, then hesitates and stops. But then they start walking more quickly, and break into a run. They stop next to Sonichu's corpse, and kneel down. With both arms, gloved in purple, they shake Sonichu's dead body as if looking for signs of life. After a few moments, they stop. They rise to their feet again, and stand there for a long time in total silence, atop the only slightly intact building in what was once CWCville.

After a minute or so, Mary Lee Walsh speaks, trying to retain her composure. "Christian finally let go...but Sonichu paid the price." She stares at the floor. "He's with Rosechu now...I guess." She sighs. "Who am I even talking to...?" She grabs Sonichu's lifeless arm, and teleports away. But before she does so, she whispers, "I'm sorry...Graduon..."


End file.
